


Duty and Fire

by Gcgraywriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Romance, Auror Blaise Zabini, Auror George Weasley, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Neville Longbottom, Auror Pansy Parkinson, Auror Ron Weasley, Auror Training, Aurors, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Multiple Pairings, Mystery, POV Alternating, POV Blaise Zabini, POV Harry Potter, POV Hermione Granger, POV Multiple, POV Neville Longbottom, POV Pansy Parkinson, POV Ron Weasley, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Rare Pairings, Rebuilding Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:33:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27440506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gcgraywriter/pseuds/Gcgraywriter
Summary: In the line of duty or in the line of fire, neither is ever far from the truth... Especially in the life of an Auror.Set on the morning after the battle of Hogwarts and all the event that happened after...
Relationships: Ginny Weasley/Other(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter/Other(s), Hermione Granger/Other(s), Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Other(s), Millicent Bulstrode/Charlie Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom/Others, Ron Weasley/Other(s)
Comments: 52
Kudos: 15





	1. The Body

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheUltimateUndesirable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUltimateUndesirable/gifts), [RubyLipsStarryEyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyLipsStarryEyes/gifts), [Mariana_Monteverde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mariana_Monteverde/gifts), [Murder_Kitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murder_Kitten/gifts).



> This is a huge thank you to the Facebook group "Hermione's Nook" as well as my good friends Murderkitten, TheUltimateUndesirable, Mariana_Monteverde & Rubylipsstarryeyes. 
> 
> I couldn't write this without your help, support and inspiration! You make me a better writer!!! I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Thank you to Mani @ Mad Fantasy for another extraordinary piece of artwork. If anyone wants a link to her work, drop me a comment I'm happy to share her and some others I have worked with :)
> 
> To everyone else. I am a 'Pantser' so other tags may appear as I write. 
> 
> ***WARNING*** 
> 
> Canon ships will change however the new pairings may surprise you. 
> 
> Possible character death but no MCD
> 
> SMUT will be happening in later chapters
> 
> If this is an issue, I suggest you read no further. I realise that it may irritate a few of you as the pairings I’ve listed because they were the canon relationships at the end of DH. I pair most of the characters with others, please keep reading while i change your mind x
> 
> I will update the tags after every chapter.
> 
> Spotify Playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6RRKMG6ou1MluNRqM4Zriz?si=53j-xvLoQW2fan_-vHeEcw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neville's POV

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/187009200@N02/50600163332/in/dateposted-public/)

The door was unassuming and plain, but he couldn’t drag his gaze away for longer than a few moments—a few scattered seconds to take in the quiet chaos around him. Luna lay dozing against him, the warm press of her body the main comforting thing in his universe. Pulling her closer, he readjusted the blanket that one of the healers had thrown at them after they had been checked over. 

His eyes returned to the door. Emotions raged within him as he tried to understand how he felt. The relief was in there along with abstract terror and revulsion, guilt, pride and shame too. The war was finally over, and the enemy was dead. The Dark Lord lay behind the door with no ability to return again. Neville shuddered, rousing Luna from her doze. She blinked at him and offered a grim smile. 

“Sorry,” He muttered shyly, remembering his blurted confession to her hours before. 

“Don’t be sorry, It’s like remembering an injury, isn’t it?” She said in her sweet singsong voice “You feel sick and relive the pain a bit when you remember what happened. And he was a very evil man.”

He nodded. He did indeed feel sick when he thought of everything over the years. He thought of his Mum and Dad and felt tears prick his eyes as he brushed them away with the back of his filthy hand.

“Shush, they would be so proud of you, Neville.” She whispered as she rested her head on his shoulder, cuddling into his side more. 

He tore his eyes away from the door of the Antechamber where Voldemort’s body lay and took in the disaster around him once more. The Weasley clan huddled together tightly as they continued to mourn Fred’s passing. Shuddering shoulders and tear-tracked cheeks showed their almost silent anguish as other such groups gathered around their own dead. Some of the Slytherins had appeared as soon as the battle was over to help heal the injured and start to clean up the mess. Parkinson and Zabini had been two notable faces to have appeared along with Nott and some of the younger ones. 

Neville assumed that this was just some attempt to curry favour in light of what would be a shit storm when everything calmed down, and blame was assigned. He watched them go from patient to patient, giving water and tucking in blankets in what appeared to be surprisingly tender and sincere performances. He watched with curiosity until the sounds of crunching footsteps drew his attention back again. 

“How long has he been in there?” Terry whispered, appearing in the doorway. They looked up at him as he crouched next to them. His chestnut hair looked windswept and filthy just like everyone else, caked in blood and brick dust. 

“A couple of hours, I think,” Luna said.

“That can’t be healthy!” He said in disbelief. “Stuck in a room with… well, y’know,”

“Actually, It’s probably best to face your fears. Don’t you think? To remind yourself that they’re dead and can’t hurt you anymore. I suspect that’s what he’s doing,” she replied matter-of-factly with a nod and a tilt of her head, sending her straw-coloured hair over his arm. 

“I guess but… It’s Voldemort…”

“I’ll go check on him,” Neville murmured as he pushed himself up stiffly from the floor. 

“Would you like it if we came with you?” Luna asked, and he appreciated it. She never assumed anything when asking someone what they needed. 

He shook his head before moving towards the door. The same humble door that hid from view the greatest monster and his downfall. He knocked first and then pushed it open, hearing the bottom scrape against debris and grit as he pressed his shoulder against the wood. 

A stretcher lay on the floor the figure on it all too recognisable with his ghostly white features and snake-like appearance. Neville shuddered again and wondered how Harry could have remained so close for so long. 

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the relative darkness in comparison to the rest of the now open-air castle. The ground was still covered in rubble from seemingly nowhere, and it took some time for his eyes to find the shivering lump that was Harry. Neville shut the door behind him, blocking out the world as he neared. 

He wanted to call out and make his presence known, but at the same time, he didn’t want to disturb the other man. He sighed and stepped forward, concentrating on anything but the boy in the centre of the antechamber. He remembered standing in this room as he waited to be sorted back in their first year. The terror of what was to come and his fear of being sorted into Slytherin or even Gryffindor clung to him, even after all these years. Even though he had panicked when the hat had pronounced his house, he knew that in the end, the hat hadn’t been wrong. 

He lowered himself gently against the wall next to his friend, who continued to sob into his knees and forearms. Once he was settled, the shorter man seemed to notice him. 

“Nev?” he croaked, “Sorry, I just…” he rubbed at his face desperate to hide his shame and tears.

“Do what you need to,” Neville responded “Just didn’t want you being in here, alone with him any longer,” 

Harry nodded with a big sniff as he wiped at his eyes again with his sleeves. Neville rummaged in his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief and passed it to Harry. The shorter man frowned in confusion but took it all the same. 

“Gran said its always a good idea to carry one, and girls really like it,” He smiled sardonically before looking down at his hands. 

There was a pause before Harry chuckled too as he wiped at his face. 

“I’m not sure whether to be happy or offended,” He said with another sniff before pointing at the material with his wand, cleaning it before handing it back. Neville took it and stuffed it back into his pocket. “But I did appreciate it so…” He smiled sadly as he rested his chin on his arms again, his eyes falling on the body in the centre of the room. 

“Are you alright?” Neville asked his eyes following Harry’s. 

“Not really, You?”

“No,” Neville shook his head. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be,”

“Just one man with an idea,” Harry said his green eyes startling even in the gloom. “Caused so much destruction,”

“But it’s over now,” Neville said with a sigh. 

“It’s not over, it’s the start,” Harry said with a shake of his head. “The start of the end, It won’t be over until all the death eaters are in Azkaban. There’s so much that needs to be done!”

“How many do you think got away?”

“I don’t know, but even if it was only one, that’s one too many out there.” 

They fell into silence, as they both drifted to where they would be if the wizard before them hadn’t been alive. 

“Do you ever wonder what sort of person you would have been if you’re parents had raised you?” Harry asked finally. 

“Every moment of every day.” Neville answered, “Although, I hope that I’ve become better than I would have been... If only to make all this worth it.” Harry nodded in understanding. 

“Would you give it all up just to have a day with them?” He asked. 

“In a heartbeat,” He admitted. He glanced at the shorter man and smiled sadly. They had never really talked about their parents before, not really. Nor had they ever really acknowledged the strange parallels between them. The silence between them seemed to linger, pregnant with dust and questions and possibilities. “What do you think you’ll do now?” Neville asked finally. 

Harry took a long time to answer as he looked around the room, studied his hands and bit his lip. At one point, he wasn’t sure whether the other man had heard him. 

“I would be lying if I said I knew for sure. For so long, it’s just been a constant battle to survive. I honestly believed it was all over when I went to the forbidden forest. I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll come back to school, though.” He muttered finally, looking at his hands as though it had been a dirty confession. He looked up, his green eyes piercing even in the dull semi-light. “What about you?”

It was Neville’s turn to think. Now that the spotlight was on him, he realised that he had never really considered what he was going to do once school was finished. He shrugged. It dawned on him that unlike Harry, he had never been held to some prophesy, never had his every movement and thought plotted out for him by others, well except for his Gran. 

He considered the question. What did he want to do? His mind rushed off in a thousand different directions, returning to finish his studies, studying herbology abroad, possibly following his uncle into Magiarchaeobotany. The thought of learning about ancient plants held a certain interest to him. 

“I’m not sure. But we’ve got some time now to think about it I guess,” He smiled apologetically

Harry breathed, resting his head on the wall and closing his eyes. 

“Time,” He sighed wistfully. “That’s something I never thought I had anything left of,”

“Well, I think you’ve bought yourself some time off at the very least,” He laughed, and Harry joined him. Their eyes fell on the body in front of them as their laughter died. 

“I can’t believe he’s gone. Part of his soul attached himself to me when he killed my mother. When he killed me, he killed that part of himself. I can feel it. Like there’s a gap in my mind where he used to be, y’know? It’s such a bizarre feeling, knowing he’s never coming back.” Neville nodded in understanding. He had overheard enough of Harry’s conversations with Ron and Hermione, about his meetings with Dumbledore and other things to know some of what he was saying already. He shivered at the thought of having anything to do with the dark lord attached to him. 

Now that Harry mentioned it, he did seem different. It was difficult to put his finger on. It was as though an awkward atmosphere had been removed from him. Before he had always seemed slightly unapproachable despite being a good bloke. That air of discomfort was gone. Neville wondered whether it was his imagination and shook his head before climbing to his feet and brushing himself down out of habit despite being covered in dust. “Come on. There’s no sense staying in here with him any longer. This won’t do you any good now.” Harry nodded and took Neville’s offered arm as he climbed up to his feet. “You ready?” He asked, looking down at the shorter man, who darted a glance at Voldemort’s still form. He took a deep and rallying breath before nodded 

“Let’s get out of here.” He confirmed as Neville opened the door and held it open for him. 

The light seemed almost blinding now that they were back out in the main corridor. Luna stood up from her position on the floor and walked towards Harry before encompassing him in a hug. Harry hugged her back as Terry rose from his crouch on the floor, watching them all. He shook his head and started to clap. The noise seemed to echo and ring off the stone throughout the still castle. Luna released Harry looking around with a smile as she pushed him and Neville forward. 

More people picked up the clap, as they closed in, the hollow slaps building in crescendo as the crowd of survivors gathered. Even the Weasley’s amid their grief stood and clapped except for George and Molly. They huddled together, too lost in their anguish to contemplate celebrating anything. Neville’s eyes swept the crowd to find the Slytherins clapping with as much gusto as anyone else as McGonagall and Shacklebolt walked through the crowd towards them. 

“Potter!” she said sternly, as though they were school children once more. The clapping faded as everyone watched on. When she got within a foot, her dusty, stern face broke out into a smile as her eyes begin to tear up. “Mr Potter! Don’t you ever do that to me again! When Hagrid brought you… I thought you were dead!” She said, pulling him into a hug. He grunted with surprise before he smiled and hugged her back. 

“That was sort of the idea,” He smirked as she released him brushing him down before she tried to straighten herself. 

“That was some smart fighting, Harry.” Kingsley nodded, offering his hand out. “And to you, Mr Longbottom, Your parents would have been proud to see the man you’ve grown up to become.” He said, smiling at them both. While he spoke, McGonagall had walked around to him, pulling him into a fierce hug too. It felt strange but comforting as she released him and patted his face.” He could see the tears in her green eyes as her bottom lip trembled with pride. 

“You both did so well under such incomprehensible conditions. You are a credit to this school. I am so proud of you both.” She said before her voice broke with emotion. 

“May I call you Neville?” Kingsley asked, looking at him with his steady dark gaze. 

Neville nodded nervously “Yes sir,” He croaked. 

“Good. Harry, Neville. I know that this is hardly the time to talk about such things. However, we need to move quickly to get ahead of the curve. I would like to offer you both permanent positions within the Auror service. We need to cleanse and strengthen our ranks to survive in this new world, and I want people I know and trust to do the job. Our main objective will be to catch the Deatheaters that escaped, obviously, but I also want to restructure and reshuffle. I think you two are the incorruptible recruits I’m looking for,” Harry went to answer, but Kingsley held up his hand. “I don’t need your answers now, think on it. Take the weekend. But I think you would both make excellent additions to the force, along with Ron. I’ll expect your owl on Monday with your answers.”

“Thank you, Sir, I’ll let Ron know.”

“Thank you,” Neville muttered with a nod. 

“Could you ask Miss Granger to owl me, I have some pressing matters I need to discuss with her too.”

“Yes sir,” 

He nodded to both of them before he disappeared back into the crowd, his purple robes billowing around him as he moved out of sight with a few of the remaining Aurors. Neville noticed the Slytherins watch him pass as though sensing an opportunity. His eyes narrowed as they followed him out of the great hall. 

“Well, there’s something else to do with all that unexpected time,” Neville muttered as Harry snorted before nodding in agreement. 

“Looks that way,” He confirmed before making his excuses to leave, Neville assumed he wanted to find Hermione and Ron.


	2. The Apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV

The night was unusually quiet, where whispers and muted voices could be heard from beyond, but there was an absence of anything else. He was sure that in all his time at Hogwarts, there had always been constant background noise, whether it be the howling of the wind or the rain hitting the windows. Now there seemed to be nothing but silence beyond the crackling of a great fire. 

The Castle was in ruins, looking much to the wizards how it would look to any Muggle who discovered the site now. Gryffindor Tower was completely demolished as was most of the roof to the great hall. The Room of Requirement was still a raging inferno, and the dungeons were flooded.

Most of the people who had fought in the war were homeless or too scared to return even after their victory, believing that Deatheaters would appear from the night to kill them while they slumbered. Harry wasn’t sure he had the words or the conviction for denying it either as most eyes turned to him for what to do next. Thankfully McGonagall had stepped forward and had taken charge, barking orders and assigning people to set up sleeping quarters and tents within the bones of the great hall and corridors. 

Harry wasn’t sure whether he believed the Slytherins about their dorms, but he understood the need to lie. They needed to be seen suffering along with the rest of them to atone instead of sleeping comfortably in their beds – dorms undamaged by the battle as though they too were untouched. Once he probably would have crept down to see for himself but those days were behind him. If they needed their lie, who was he to ruin it? This fabrication hurt no one. 

His mind darted to Draco, who was strangely absent from the odd shantytown they had built. Then again, he had thrown his lot in with Harry the moment he tossed his wand in assistance. The blond had nothing to prove to anyone with that public display of support. He understood the bravery that took and recognised that Draco’s helplessness against his families wishes probably extended to the other purebloods too. 

Opening his eyes a crack, he saw people still glancing his way as he feigned sleep, still looking to him for guidance and leadership. He had refused a tent so that someone else could have the comfort and privacy of a tent while they slept. He wasn’t sure he would be able to sleep, but the privacy would’ve been welcome. The silence that surrounded the Castle was akin to booming silence in his brain. It was like the blind spot in a migraine or the eye of a raging storm. A section of his mind that was deep and empty and untouched by his racing thoughts. He sat up and noticed the hush fall upon the people around him instantly. He ignored them as he hugged his knees to his chest. 

The faces of the dead bodies littering the courtyard still passed in front of his eyes when he blinked, and he wasn’t sure they would ever leave him. He had offered to help. It was his mess after all, and these people had died for him, so wasn’t it his duty? McGonagall hadn’t thought so, nor had Madam both of them staring him down before he threw his hands up in defeat. He wasn’t up to fighting any more. He watched the Aurors as they did the work, sure that he had to suffer through it knowing just what he had cost the community. Even with Tom Riddle gone, he wasn’t sure the price had been worth it. The day passed for him in much the same as people started to repair and rebuild around him. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, listening to the constant sniffles and sobs beyond the crackling fire. As shadows danced on the remains of the darkened walls. Ron and Hermione were around somewhere, enjoying their own time and he for one was relieved not to be in such close proximity to the snogfest. 

A crunch of debris underfoot nearby made him jump, reaching for his wand as his head whipped around to face the danger. Confusion lowered his wand as he tried to calculate why Pansy Parkinson of all people stood before him.  
“I’m on a mission of peace, Potter,” She said quietly holding her hands up in surrender. He nodded and released his wand as she stepped closer. Her normally spotless and perfect visage was utterly ruined as dust and dirt marred her clothes.  
Even her nails were broken and ruined, which surprised Harry the most. The Slytherins had outdone themselves from what he had seen in trying to help. Most of the debris from the great hall was gone, and some of the walls had been reassembled. He had to hand it to them, they were trying to make amends in whatever way they could. 

She hovered, drawing his eye again. “Would you mind if I used up a moment of your time?” She asked her voice low and unsure. He nodded mutely as she lowered herself demurely sitting across from him, avoiding his eyes as she did so. There was silence as he watched her, waiting for whatever she was about to do or say. When it didn’t appear that she was about to say anything, he opened his mouth to speak. 

“Please,” She said, holding up her hand. “this isn’t easy for me.” 

“Take your time,” He said before turning his attention to a loose thread on his jeans. 

“I know we’ve never been friends not have we been anywhere near friendly,”

Harry snorted in response. Not friendly was an understatement. She looked at him harshly before lowering her eyes again as though remembering why she was here. “I know that you have no loyalty towards those in my house, least of all me but I wanted to offer my sincerest apologies for my faux pas last night.” She said risking a glimpse at him before looking at the hands in her lap again. “I shouldn’t have said to hand you over. I’m not going to make excuses for it, but I shouldn’t have said it, and you have my sincerest apology.” She finished. 

“It’s alright, Parkinson. I forgive you,” He said tiredly as he rubbed at his face, knocking his glasses askew, grimacing when he felt house gritty his skin felt. Her gaze rose slowly, and he saw the confusion and uncertainty there as she tried to calculate where the catch was. 

“Just like that?” She asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. She pushed her hair away from her face exposing more dirt on her face. He studied her as she studied him and he decided that he had been unkind when he called her pug-faced. She was pretty in a cute sort of way. Still, there was something about her face, an angle here, a rise there that stopped her from being adorable and gave her the hard edge he was familiar with. He wondered what she would look like if she smiled.

“Just like that,” He confirmed as he too pushed his hair away from his face. “I don’t know what your reasons were, and to be honest, I don’t care.” He shrugged, holding her gaze. “It doesn’t matter any more, does it?” She watched him for a moment before clenching her jaw. Her eyes seemed to shine in the glint of the fire. Was she crying?

“You’re right,” she whispered, “It probably doesn’t matter any more. For what it’s worth though, I am sorry,” She repeated. 

He nodded in acceptance as they sat in silence for a moment longer. When it didn’t look like she was going to leave, he spoke. 

“So, how come you haven’t gone home?” She looked at him, another frown of confusion crossing her features. 

“We both know that my father was far from quiet in his support for the Dark Lord. If I go home, I’ll either be met with renegade Death Eaters or Vengeful Aurors,” She shrugged. “I’m better off here, in plain sight where people know where I am. helping where people will allow me to.”

He nodded, understanding what she meant, albeit the phraseology confused him. Where people knew where she was? What was that supposed to mean? “What about you, Potter? Surely you have somewhere to go back to? What happened to those muggle relatives of yours?” She asked curiously. He smirked and shook his head. This was the longest they had ever talked before. 

“I’d be better going back to your home full of the Renegade Death Eaters. I’d probably be safer.” She frowned hard at that. 

“I don’t understand, Do they not love you?” She asked. He considered not answering, but he shrugged internally. He was too tired to care. 

“It’s a word that sounds similar but means the complete opposite.” He snorted awkwardly. 

“Loath?” She asked, looking shocked, or what he thought shocked looked like on such a controlled face. 

“Yep,” He nodded “So, I’m better off here too, Hogwarts has always been my home.” He couldn’t work out why he was being so open with her, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like it was top secret information. 

“Miss Parkinson,” A voice called, interrupting them. McGonagall approached, her already tired face looked drawn and pale as she looked down at the Slytherin. “We’ve gotten word from your family…” 

And with that single sentence, all the control dissolved as she rushed to her feet, her eyes wide and her brow furrowed. “Poppy? Have they found her?”

McGonagall chewed on her lip and shook her head, her face creased with worry and sympathy. “I’m afraid not. Would you like to discuss it more in my office?” The older woman asked. Pansy shook her head as she held herself. Harry caught the sight of a tear sliding down her cheek, glinting in the firelight. 

“There’s really no point is there? They still know nothing, and she’s still not free.” She choked before nodding her head and storming off, holding a hand to her face as she disappeared from the room. Harry stood and approached McGonagall, who still stared after Pansy. She shook her head gravely before turning back to Harry. 

“It’s just so senseless.” She squeaked as her voice broke with emotion as she tried to keep the tears at bay. “There are so many students here that are still in limbo, and I just don’t know how to help them, I wish Albus were here.” She confided. 

Harry nodded. “I’ll stay around and help rebuild. The sooner the school is back together, the sooner people can put their lives back together again.” She turned on him then, her eyes fierce behind her horn-rimmed glasses. 

“No, you will not! I will hear of no such thing! I want to see the look on that poison toad’s face when you become an Auror-if you still want to of course. Umbridge would turn purple and hopefully choke on that hideous hair bow,” She spat. Harry couldn’t help chuckle at this sudden rant, and the noise made a small half-smile appear on McGonagall’s face as she remembered where she was. “If your wish is to still become an Auror, you leave the rebuilding to us.” She smiled, patting him on the shoulder before she turned away. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked suddenly his eyes trailing after where Parkinson had disappeared to. The smile vanished from her face, the deep worry lines appearing in her skin again, and she shook her head. 

“Become a damn fine Auror, you may not be able to help Parkinson, but you can help so many others.” She said finally before turning and walking away.


	3. The Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginny's POV

“What did she want?” She asked as she neared, lowering herself to the ground next to him. 

“To apologise,” Harry replied as he threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as she rested her head on his shoulder. She raised her eyebrow sceptically at the thought of the Slytherin apologising for anything. She wanted to ask more, but he continued “How are you coping? How are the others?” 

Ginny thought about it for a moment before looking back over to the other corner of the room where, even now, she could still hear her mother crying. “I’m alright.” She answered quietly. She wasn’t, not really. They both knew it but didn’t say anything. How could she be alright when her brother was dead? Her eyes felt sore and gritty from crying, and she longed for sleep. Still, every time she tried to close her eyes, seeing his lifeless body being carried by Hagrid bolted her upright and sent her eyes searching for him again. She yawned against him, enjoying the warmth he provided. 

“How are you?” She asked quietly. “You look pretty good for a dead guy,” She added, throwing him a small smile. He nodded but didn’t return her smile. For a brief moment, she wondered whether he hadn’t been faking it. Had one of her worst nightmares come true?

“I don’t know, Gin.” He replied honestly turning his head to look at her before turning away again. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She offered. She remembered after her incident with the Riddle’s Diary back in her first year, it had taken months for her to get used to the silence in her own head again. He sighed as he pushed his unruly hair away from his forehead, flashing the scar that had started it all. 

“I don’t know where to start.” He snorted. 

“Well, when you do, I’m here.”

“I know.” They fell into silence for a time as they watched as Madam Pomfrey and Hannah Abbott moved around the room treating the smaller wounds. “Since when has Hannah been healing people?” He asked. 

“Since the beginning of the year. When the Carrows started… Well, Pomfrey needed to sleep sometime.” Ginny offered. She couldn’t begin to cover what the Carrows did to them, that was a conversation for another day, far away from the walls that still echoed with the screams.

He nodded, not asking for more details and for that she was grateful. “I missed you, Gin,” he whispered, finally turning to her. 

“I missed you too. I thought you really were dead,” Her voice caught in her throat as the image came to mind again-his limp arm swaying lifelessly as Hagrid moved. She closed her eyes, pressing her lips to his as she held his face with her hand. Noting how warm he was as he kissed her back, feeling more tears slide down her cheeks—tears of relief. The kiss was short but sweet, leaving them both silent as they pressed their foreheads together just enjoying their reunion. “So…” She whispered finally, “Is this where you ask me to forgive you an to take you back?” She smirked, and he actually laughed. He thought about it for a moment, his face sobering before he answered. 

“I would love to do that, but I think I’m too broken, I’m not sure if it’s a good idea,”

“Look around, Harry! We’re all broken! The only way we’re going to fix ourselves if we pick up the pieces and keep moving.”

“Can we take it slow?” He asked, His green eyes meeting her own. They looked different somehow. The shade and shape were the same, but they had a quality to them that hadn’t been there before. Like she could see the fine fractures in the glass. She placed her hand against his cheek again, feeling the stubble growing around his jaw. Nodding, she wondered whether she was different from the girl he had left behind. He kissed her cheek before resting his head against hers. 

“Tell me something good,” Harry asked, his voice sounding heavy as though sleep was finally gripping him. She thought for a moment and smiled. 

“The look on Alecto’s face when I snatched the sword of Gryffindor from Snapes Office.” She said with a chuckle “It seemed to take her almost a minute to understand what we’d done, and then twice as long to catch us.” The smile dropped from her face when she remembered the excruciating pain that had vibrated in her bone marrow when the witch finally caught her. She shivered, drawing a snore from Harry as he rested against her, asleep at last. 

She pressed into his side and released a breath she didn’t realise she had been holding- for months if not years—the sigh of relief knowing that the worst was over and that Voldemort had been defeated. The Dark Lord was dead, and Harry wasn’t.

It was the sigh of peace at last. Ginny felt sleep pulling at her, too, as her eyes watched the others in the hall. Her mother had appeared from their tent but was being gripped in a tight embrace by Augusta Longbottom as she cried into her shoulder. No one had expected Neville’s Gran to join the fray, but she had an had taken down her fair share of opponents. Her skills had been impressive to watch. No one would cross her now after seeing her fight, that was for sure.

Shivering again, she took out her wand, whipping a warming charm over them both. Harry sighed next to her, and she smiled. She would make him happy and help them both forget all the hardships and losses they had experienced. She knew she could make him happy. 

Hannah appeared at their feet a moment later and asked her whether they were alright. Ginny nodded, noting how the other girl’s eyes moved over Harry in a mixture of awe and interest. She didn’t like it. Perhaps sensing her discomfort Hannah turned her eyes away again, offering to bring back a blanket and some pillows. Ginny nodded and watched as the Hufflepuff moved on. After all this time apart she was not willing to lose him to a sycophantic Hufflepuff just after him for the fame. He was hers. 

It was late, she could feel it in her bones even if the stars, clearly visible through the smashed ceiling in the inky darkness beyond wasn’t an obvious indication. She yawned, feeling the tears prick her eyes. She wondered whether the spirit of her brother was looking down on them all from somewhere as she watched the stars twinkle and flicker. The ache in her heart seemed to intensify again at the thought of him never entering a room with George again or them finishing each other’s sentences. It was bad enough for her, but for George, she could only imagine. Twins should never be separated, it was a divine miscarriage of justice. Movement caught her attention again as Hannah returned with the blankets and pillows and some soup that the elves had managed to throw together. 

Ginny thanked her, taking the two bowls and placing them down before taking the bedding. She opened her mouth to say more when a crack echoed through the great hall. Someone screamed as a dark figure appeared in the centre, momentarily disorientated as he looked around the room. There were shouts and screams as someone fired a shot. There was a flash and a rolling wave of energy, filling the room as everyone nearby thrown back. Ginny watched as Hannah collided with the wall, hot soup turning her skin pink as she lay unmoving on the floor. The figure turned around looking for someone and stopped when he spotted them. Ginny watched with wide eyes as she fumbled for her wand, fear filling her as the Death Eater bore down on them. The figure was clearly a man, his shoulders were too broad and square to be a woman. She shouted as she pointed her wand at him.

“Put it down, girl, I don’t kill Purebloods, even if they are traitors.” He growled, his voice deep and sinister. 

“Put it down, Gin,” Harry said from her side. She didn’t dare take her eyes off the man before her. 

“No! I won’t let you hurt us.” She called clearly, loud enough that everyone could hear. 

“I only want Potter. I must finish the Dark Lords work. The Potter boy must die!” He boomed again. 

“I won’t let you.” She shouted again. 

“Please, don’t hurt her,” Harry begged as he tried to extricate himself from her, but she pushed closer. “Gin, please.”

“Not Harry, no! you’ll have to kill me first!”

“This is my last warning!” 

“Not Harry!” She confirmed again

“So be it,” The unknown Death Eater shook his head, his pewter mask glinting dimly in the firelight. He raised his hand to strike, wand pointing at them both. Time slowed as Ginny tried to remember the incantation for the protection charm, even though it would do nothing to defend them against the killing curse. Her eyes sought out her family, knowing it would be the last time she would ever see them again. She caught sight of Charlie, scrambling in slow motion as he tried to reach them along with other people. He would be too late, they all would. She wished she could have said goodbye to them all. She cuddled closer to Harry feeling his arm around her tighten. 

“Avada Ke-” A green flash erupted at his back, filling the room with the flare. Ginny waited for the pain before realising that she hadn’t been hit. She turned to Harry instinctively, and he was alive too. His eyes wide in surprise as they stared at the hooded man in shock. 

Ginny returned her gaze to him too, watching as he teetered on his feet before staggering then collapsing in a heap dead. The silence rang out like a painfully loud chime as time seemed to catch up. A lone figure stood behind where the man had been. Millicent Bulstrode. The Slytherin stood with her wand pointed and eyes wide as she stared at the crumpled form on the floor. The tremble in her hand increased as tears streamed down her face. 

“Ginny!” Molly screamed, pulling her daughter up and into the arms in a fierce embrace. She returned it gladly. 

“Harry!” Neville asked hauling Harry to his feet. 

“Who was it?” People started to ask as they began to crowd around them all. Arthur bent down to uncover the face but before he did so a small voice filled the room. 

“Mr Crabbe, my uncle.” Millicent declared before her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell. Charlie lunged to grab her, lowering her gently to the floor. 

“Her uncle?” someone remarked.

“Brave girl!” someone else mumbled. 

“Give the girl some air, people!” Augusta called as she barged through the crowd with McGonagall. “Poor thing needs space!” she said as she lowered herself down next to Charlie to treat the girl. 

“Horrace, Fillius, Please can you assist me in reinstating the protection wards around the castle. I was assured that we were in no danger here, but it seems that we are. Potter? Weasley? Are you alright?” McGonagall asked shakily. 

They both nodded. “Hannah got hit,” she said, turning to the blonde to her left, but Pomfrey was already there treating the burns as the Hufflepuff slowly came around.

“Why did she do it?” she asked as she stared down at Bulstrode’s unconscious body, being cradled by her brother as Augusta waved some smelling salts under her nose.  
McGonagall turned to Luna, who had been amongst the crowd. 

“Luna, please can you go and inform the people in the other classrooms to raise charms around their rooms and tell those in the corridor to set up camp in here. It’s going to be crowded, but at least we’ll all be safer.” Luna nodded without a word and turned to leave the great hall. “If anyone is proficient in charm casting, please could you join me in the courtyard, William, you too, please.” The headmistress said, pointing at Bill before leaving with a group of people to recast the protection charms around the school. Arthur swished his wand, levitating Mr Crabbe’s body out of the room.

“Never do that again!” Harry hissed at her angrily before pulling her into a hug. “You almost died!”

“So now we’re even,” she smirked shakily as he released her before sliding weakly back down to the floor. 

“Now we’re even!” Harry confirmed with a sigh as he joined her on the floor.


	4. The Memory

It was a dream--it was the only explanation. The green flash, the forbidden words, the body on the floor, yes it must have been a dream. She remembered his dark eyes, glaring down at her during her childhood, judging her for her worth to the family, like a prized mare. She wondered how much her family would get for her now? Death in an indoor campsite, surrounded by her school mates and Harry Potter. The ceiling was missing, and all eyes were on her. There was no way that all of those things were true. They didn’t make sense. 

“Millicent?” an unfamiliar voice called. She frowned. There shouldn’t be other people here. She wondered whether she had fallen asleep in Charms again. She blinked against the dream as the great roofless-hall melted away. The voice tried to reach her again, drawing the darkness away like a tide. She waited for a moment for it to come rushing back at her like a wave, set to engulf her. When nothing happened, she opened her eyes.

Unsure of what she was looking at initially, she stared at the stars, noting that Venus twinkled periwinkle blue as the trees swayed around them. Trees? Stars? Inside? Where were they? They? She became aware of the legs beneath her head and the arms around her, supporting her whole body. They were warm and firm, and she felt oddly safe and protected, something she was not used to feeling. It was as though by simply laying here, she would be safe from anything forever. Maybe she was still dreaming after all… 

“How do you feel?” The voice asked again, and she nodded slightly, a dull pain in her head as she moved. How did she feel? She tensed and flexed every muscle minutely, testing for problems but other than feeling cold and achy and the press of the solid frigid floor against her back she felt alright. Her brain felt heavy, though, as though someone had filled it with porridge. Thoughts were challenging to find and once found it difficult to grip. There was something she was forgetting, something important, but through the sludge, she couldn’t recall what. She frowned hard at the sensation. Had she been obliviated?

“Where am I?” She asked finally, her voice sounding softer than she had meant for it to be. She couldn’t be soft, not in the view of strangers. Weakness was for fools, and gentleness was something she couldn’t afford. It would get her killed if she was anything less than hard, solid marble. A tear escaped her eye, rolling down her cheek as her chest became tight. Panic filled her at her sudden lapse in emotion. Her family… there was something there, in the mud, she reached for it, but it disappeared again. 

“Shush,” He whispered, wiping the stray tear from her cheek. A rough, calloused thumb against her cheek she showed more gentleness than she had ever felt. “We’re safe, we’re in classroom eleven, Firenze gave me the keys.” murmured the voice again accompanied by a small jingle of keys. The voice was so calm and smooth that she almost wanted to close her eyes again, lulled by the total sense of security she felt. 

“Who are you?”

“Charlie Weasley,” He murmured again. “Can I call you Millie?” she nodded despite herself. No one called her Millie except for her closest friends. Where were her friends? 

“Weasley?” She asked, confusion fighting off the serenity she felt. She tried to sit up and felt a hand on her back, helping her. Her brown furrowed as she looked around. Why was he helping her? What was in it for him? People didn’t help people for no reason. That she knew for sure.

“Yeah. You probably know my youngest brother, Ronald.” She nodded, she was aware of Ronald Weasley. They’d sung that song hadn’t they? Wasn’t he royalty? She thought distantly. She rubbed her head. What was wrong with her, why was thinking so hard. “You hit your head when you fainted, Pomfrey said you should be fine but suggested you wake up somewhere away from… other people…” They were indeed alone. She wondered distantly whether that was what he wanted? A girl alone in a room, no one around to help or save her. She waited to feel scared, but she’d been here before, and no one came no matter how much noise she made. 

“Why are we here?” She asked dully, at least she could try and gather some information. Her eyes met his, confused by the look in them as they looked at her. Was it concern? Worry? It was completely at odds with the predatory look Amycus had given her last time. 

He had such a kind face as he looked at her --handsome and warm, with lines around his mouth and eyes that came from laughing. She could see the start of coppery stubble gathering at his freckled chin before stopping at his soft lips. It would certainly be a more pleasant experience from last time. 

“I didn’t think you would have wanted to wake up surrounded by everyone, but we can go back if you like? You’re completely safe in here. I won’t hurt you!” It was like he read the thoughts across her face, or had she said them out loud? Heat flooded her face in the first real flush of feeling since waking. 

“Surrounded?” was he being purposefully hesitant, or was she being dense?

“I’ve got some uncomfortable new to tell you, but I want you to know that you can talk to me about it if you need to. There is no judgement here. This is a safe place.” He looked at her seriously as he stressed what he was saying. 

“Alright…” nodding suspiciously as she noted how his shirt strained over his muscles as he pushed his hand through his shaggy hair. Her eyes followed the curve of his coppery eyebrows as they melted into the high, freckled cheekbones. He held her gaze steadily as he took her hands as though guiding her through a minefield. They were rough but gentle and warm, she found that she enjoyed the feeling of them in her own. 

“A Death Eater apparated into the great hall about an hour ago. He came to kill Harry.” He paused as he waited, looking between her eyes as though waiting for any sign of recognition. Millie could feel the overwhelming sense of dread as she concentrated on the warmth of his hands like anchors in a storm. He continued, calmly, watching her carefully like a wild creature. “The Death Eater was Nehemiah Crabbe, your uncle. He was shot with the killing curse. He’s dead,” 

The words hung in the air between them. “He’s dead”. Like a bell made out of crystal, it seemed to pierce the sludge in her mind, blasting it away, leaving her with her memories intact. A trembling started somewhere deep at her core as she remembered the flash of green and her lips and voice working of their own accord. The hatred for the man weaving with the spell as it left the tip of her wand. It that sudden, blinding blaze of green, she remembered the way he had treated her and her siblings, how she needed to protect Harry who had saved them from everything. She saw a way out even if it meant giving herself up. 

“Finally,” she whispered as she sagged with relief. 

“Millie, do you remember what happened?” he asked gently, his eyes watching her as though expecting anything from a terror fueled rage to a sobbing mess. He didn’t look prepared for calm resignation. 

“I fired the curse” she replied, turning away from him. Why wasn’t she panicking? Where was her Self-preservation? “So when will the Aurors be here?” She asked coldly as a floaty feeling seemed to wash over her. Numbness that had settled in despite the fine trembling in her limbs – the only outward appearance that her subconscious was scared. Even the prospect of going to Azkaban didn’t rouse the fear in her conscious mind as it should have. 

“Aurors? No one has called the Aurors.” Charlie said, squeezing her hands. “Everyone saw you save the boy who lived. You’re not going anywhere.” He said, releasing her hands. She felt the loss of them like a slap across her face. They rested on her bare arms, his heat radiating through her skin, easing the tremble and calming her sudden twinge of panic. 

“Why not? I killed someone, and I used an unforgivable,” She tried to look away from the concern and kindness in his eyes, but he took her face in his hands. 

“Millie, You saved the boy who lived from being killed. You saved my sister too. No one else would have been able to do anything in time. If anything, you are a hero. Everyone in the great hall saw it. I’m just sorry you had to do it. I’m sorry, your uncle is dead.” 

“I’m not,” she said quietly as she closed her eyes as she relaxed into his hands. She felt so cold and tired. Could it be true that it was really over? 

“You look tired, and your skin is cold, Lie down and sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” He whispered, and she nodded. She felt so weary and hollow, like a strong wind would whisk her away and she’d be lost forever. She lay down again, feeling the wash of a warming charm cover her skin and she sighed. 

“Thank you, Charlie Weasley.” She murmured as she closed her eyes, resting her head on his thighs again. 

“Shush,” He whispered as he stroked her hair, “Rest,” She nodded again as the wave of darkness washed over her, light a quilt of nothingness as she drifted off to sleep.


	5. The Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron's POV

He wasn’t sure if he was actually sleeping or whether he was in that strange little space in-between. Somewhere in the limbo between, he seemed to be aware of his surroundings and dreaming simultaneously. Brushing a strand of Hermione’s rambunctious hair from his stubble, he blinked painfully, his eyes feeling dry and gritty. He was unable to cry any more, even as the realisation that he would never see his brother’s grinning face again sliced his insides. It had been a possibility since the beginning, losing members of his family. They had already come so close too many times to care for. Almost losing Gin in their second year, and his Dad to Nagini in fifth. He was surprised that they hadn’t lost anyone before now, not that it made him feel any luckier. His throat ached as it constricted, holding back the sob that wanted to burst forth. 

Hermione stirred next to him as he swallowed it all down, looking up with her deep brown eyes. As they focused, they creased with concern, and she sat up slightly to get a better look at him. 

“Are you alright? Did you manage to get any sleep at all?” She whispered as she reached up to stroke his face. He nodded, his throat too tender to talk. His eyes wandered out from under the ruined staircase where they had crashed, casting the now all familiar protection and disillusionment charms around them to hide them from threats as they rested. People wandered past, looking as batter and bloody as all the others. Even the Slytherins walking past looking dishevelled and dusty, as they carried blankets and food from room to room. 

The silence between them continued, Ron was unsure of what to say to break it, and she seemed equally hesitant to say the wrong thing. The adrenalin of the battle gone from his veins, he felt vaguely awkward around her as though they were back in their fourth year all over again. He smiled at her before fidgeting in a bid to get more comfortable. Hermione followed suit before leaning against him once more. It was an improvement to have her penetrating gaze pointed away from him, leaving him to his thoughts unseen. “I wonder where Harry is,” She murmured against his bicep. He shrugged even as his thoughts turned to Harry too. Watching him come face to face with Voldemort had been brilliant. He would tell stories, years from now, about how his best mate faced the greatest evil that the world had ever known with a smile on his face and fire in his eyes. 

“Bloody brilliant,” he murmured, with a shake of his head. 

“Ron?” the voice called, drawing him from his memory. He looked around, seeing no one besides him and Hermione. He shared a look with her before glancing through their wards. “Hermione?” Came the voice again as Luna came into view, looking around for them. Her straw-coloured hair looking paler ith dust and pink in placed from blook and some cuts on her face. 

“What do you think she wants?” Ron asked quietly. 

“We had better find out, it might be important.” She said, pushing up from him. She stepped through the wards right next to Luna, and he half expected her to jump out of her skin, but she didn’t, as though she had known they were there. 

“Very clever idea, I wouldn’t have thought of looking there,” She smiled as Hermione pulled her into their bubble. “Oh, Hello Ron.” She smiled. 

Ron smiled and nodded slightly as he waited to hear more “I’m so glad you’re both alright,” She announced suddenly before pulling them into a hug with each arm wrapped around each of their necks. “When you left us at shell cottage, Dean and the others feared the worst. But I knew you would be alright,” She released them and stepped back, tears in her eyes. 

“It was a close call,” Ron said awkwardly pushing a hand through his hair. 

“What did you need, Luna? Is everything alright?” 

“Oh, yes, everything is fine now. A death eater got into the great hall and tried to kill Harry and Ginny, but Milicent killed him first. McGonagall wanted me to tell everyone to put wards up around them where they sleep or return to the main hall,”

“What?” Ron and Hermione asked in unison.

“Are they alright?” Ron continued. 

“They were fine when I left, and Millicent was being looked after by Charlie. It was her Uncle.” Luna said somberly.

“Who? The Death Eater?” Hermione asked. Luna Nodded. 

“It was Mr Crabbe, Vincent’s dad,”

“How did he get in?” Ron demanded, His heart racing. Harry and his sister were at risk, and he hadn’t been there. And the rest of his family could have also been hurt. Adrenaline filled his veins again. 

“The Auror’s told McGonagall that we were safe.”

“And no one thought to put up the protection spells again?” Hermione finished. Luna nodded. 

“Let’s move to the great hall, We can help better there,” Ron insisted, ignoring the slight reluctance in Hermione’s stance before she agreed. The thought of being this close to Harry and his family and being of no use was unthinkable, regardless of what alone time they could have had. 

Ron grabbed her jacket and smiled as they headed out. Hermione slashing at the air with her wand to stop the spells and then they were moving. Ron rushed not waiting to see if the other two were following him. He had to make sure that Harry and his family were alright. 

It wasn’t a long walk from where they had been, but the hall was filled with people trying to find space to sleep when they arrived. His eyes darted through the crowd, hungry for the sight of a family member or Harry. 

“Ah, there you are my boy,” Said a familiar voice from his left as someone pulled him into a tight embrace. The scent of sage, ink and oil embedded in his clothes was both familiar and comforting as he held his father. “Are you alright?” Ron nodded as they pulled away. Ron realised that his Dad was greyer than he remembered, not that he could really be surprised. 

“You alright, Dad?” He asked, His Dad tried to smile, but it was just a tug of lips and watery eyes as he sought out Molly in the crowd. 

“I’m coping, your mother is… not doing quite so fell I fear,”

“Where is she? We heard about Harry and Ginny, Are they okay?”

“Fine, fine. In fact, they’re all together in the corner,” He pointed to the far corner where, in another lifetime, a suit of armour had stood. 

“How’s George?” His Dad shrugged as more tears started to line his eyes. 

Ron nodded in understanding as he moved away and headed towards his Mom. 

He glanced around, and Hermione and Luna were still talking with Arthur and something loosened in his chest. He was happy to be alone for a moment. 

Someone bumped into him and offered a mumbled sorry as they gripped him to stop him falling. He smiled politely but kept moving. Finally, his view was unobstructed, and Molly, Ginny and Harry all sat together. 

“Ronald, darling! Where have you been?” Molly cried, standing up, before pulling him into a crippling hug. “I was worried sick,”

“I’m fine, Mom. Me and Hermione set wards up around us under the stairs.”

“Good, good,” She said before releasing him and patting his cheek. Molly also looked paler and greyer than he remembered, thinner too. He wondered what their lives had been like since they had fled the Burrow. The Burrow, that was a thought for another time, for all they knew they had no home to return to. He would have to speak to his brothers about that and see what he could do to help. 

“Are you both alright?” He asked, his eyes darting between Harry and Ginny, who were cuddled up together looking pale. He shouldn’t have been surprised that they got back together again so soon, but there they were all cuddles and warmth. Ginny nodded with a tight smile, and Harry just nodded, looking tired. 

“Professor McGonagall and some of the other staff members have reinstated the shields around the great hall so we should be safe from any further Death Eater attacks. He almost killed Harry and Gin…” Her voice gave out as she started to cry again. 

He comforted his mother as he pulled her in for another hug as he too felt the tears sting his own eyes. Their losses could have been much greater but losing Fred was so incomprehensible that they didn’t know how to cope. The fear of the possibility barely met the horror of the reality. Fred was gone, and they were desolate, like being gripped by a dementor’s cold grasp, all the humour and warmth was gone from the world. Ron wasn’t sure he could ever see it returning.


End file.
